Chapter 4

I opened V8, and the screen was covered in Charles' comments.

To be fair, this time his feedback was actually clear: [the overall direction is fine, but the brand tone isn't quite right, the core selling points aren't communicated strongly enough, and the visual hierarchy is a mess.]

Objectively speaking, there was nothing wrong with those notes.

They were specific, not like that useless kind of feedback that just says "Something feels off. Go think about it."

He was actually pointing out real problems.

I went back and reread the entire logical thread of the proposal. And as I read, an uncomfortable thought began to surface.

If I had simply taken Charles' direction as good enough back in V6 and just focused on refining the details, V7 and 8 never would have needed to be completely scrapped and redone.

That meant I had done two versions for nothing, at least two.

All those late nights, staying up until three in the morning to finish revisions and then dragging myself back to work the next day might have been a complete waste of time.

My grip tightened on the mouse, but I knew this wasn't the moment to get stuck on that thought.

Tomorrow's meeting with Charles was what really mattered. If we lost the project, nothing else would be worth discussing anyway.

I started revising the proposal, working through each piece of feedback Charles had left on V8 one by one.

For the brand tone, I combed through Fordwell Group's public communications from the past three years and rebuilt the key messaging from scratch.

For the core selling points, I stripped away all the flashy language and went back to the product itself, keeping only the hardest data and the most direct way of presenting it.

And for the visual hierarchy, I reorganized the layout so the information would read clearly from most to least important.

By ten-thirty at night, I was the only one left in the office.

Emily had brought me a coffee and a sandwich before she left and set them on the corner of my desk, but by the time I got to them, both had gone cold.

I ate the sandwich and drank the coffee in turns, just enough to keep myself going.

When I finally finished the new version at one in the morning, I read through the whole thing twice from beginning to end.

I genuinely thought it was better than V8, but I couldn't say I felt sure about it.

What I wasn't certain of was whether Charles would even be willing to look at it anymore.

That one message he saw might have made him blacklist me and the entire BrightEdge Media agency.

I saved the file, shut down my computer, and put my head down on the desk for three hours.

The alarm went off at five in the morning, and I woke up with a stiff neck and an aching back.

I went to the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face, and the person staring back from the mirror looked pale with dark circles under her eyes.

Pulling my hair up into a high ponytail made me look slightly more awake, at least.

Then I changed into a clean shirt I kept at my desk, loaded the proposal onto a USB drive, and saved another copy onto my tablet.

I left the house at seven o'clock.

Fordwell Group was located in the financial district on the east side of the city, which meant about an hour's commute from our office.

The subway was packed, so I ended up wedged into a corner with one hand gripping the overhead strap and the other holding my tablet.

All the while, I kept running through what I was going to say. "Mr. Bennett, about what happened yesterday, that was a serious mistake on my part, and I want to sincerely apologize."

That sounded way too stiff.

"Mr. Bennett, I know my message yesterday made you feel uncomfortable, and that was completely my fault."

That was too weak.

"Mr. Bennett..." I gave up.

I'd figure it out when I got there and just play it by ear depending on his mood.

Either way, no matter what he said, I was going to take it. That was exactly what Richard had told me to do.